“A feast of flesh,” Ivy cried triumphantly. “Vegans can suck it, the sick murdering bastards. The sooner we get collars around their necks, the better. My first thought was to begin with them, but no. We’ll execute a few, as examples, but the rest will be put to work in the fields to atone for their misdeeds…They’ll get it wrong. They always do, it seems,” the last was said with a weary and defeated sigh. “Gaia knows how long it will take, straightening out the mess. Repeating it over and over for the stubborn, stupid morons who just never understand.”

The weariness was becoming more frustrated as she spoke. Not quite angry, not yet, but Batman knew Ivy well enough that he could see where it was heading. He knew the best move was to change the subject, but the feeling in his chest—and also now his back—was an unsettling distraction. He was not in costume. He not only had to handle her, he had to handle her as Bruce Wayne, and… squirming… the way sweat sometimes puddled under the armor, except it didn’t really feel wet, he wasn’t warm and he wasn’t perspiring…

“They’re so STUPID, Bruce. I mean… vegetarians! Even the ones that are supposed to be on our side, get it ALL WRONG-WRONG-WRONG! And the others that—that are ALWAYS as WRONG as CAN BE. Gaia, they’re so committed to it, so intense about it, how is it even possible for SO MANY to be so… so WRONG!? So totally, consistently WRONG about so damn much…”
–Spontaneous Generation